"Have a good rest of your evening, Miss Holt," the man said, pointing at the door.
I pushed it open, realizing that we'd pulled back into the same parking lot. The sedan stood beside my car. I grabbed my groceries and got out. The burner was clenched tight in my fist.
I didn't move until the vehicle was gone and the evening air felt like air again.
Three days after I'd given every last penny of my settlement to a mysterious man waiting for me in the park where I jogged, I was cross-legged on my couch, a blanket wrapped around me, laptop balanced on my knees.
I'd been like this for hours—enough time for my thighs to go numb and for the recommended daily limit of screen time to collapse and beg for mercy.
I was supposed to be researching a list of venues for a client whowanted avintage-ygala, but instead I scrolled through endless feeds, searching for any news about Ronan Wick, Jerico Thorne, or Caius Valmont. There was nothing. Not a single update. Not a scandal, not a mugshot, not even a passive-aggressive sub-thread.
I clicked through every news site I could find, even the conspiracy forums, desperate for any ripple in the water. But the surface was glass.
A cold pit formed in my gut. Had the Bureau just taken my money and vanished?
I checked the burner again, the one with its own little altar spot on the coffee table. The display was blank.
Was all this just some elaborate scam?
There's an organization. They call themselves the Bureau.
They help people like...well, people who've been failed by the system. For a price.
My mind went back to the night at The Crypt. Brynn was there along with two of her other friends—Vex and Rosemary. Had they all been in on it or had Lena fooled everyone?
The keys on my laptop clacked. I opened a new tab and started searching forBureau urban legend,but only got stories about insurance companies and the FBI.
Was I being catfished by my own desperation?
My real phone buzzed. But the screen indicated it was Geneva, my boss and the owner of Lark & Lark.
I felt my brain resist the idea of answering. Geneva only called when something was on fire and I didn't have enough mental bandwidth to deal with it right now. I was spiraling, I realized.
Still, the responsible woman in me who respected the only company in town to employ me answered. "Hey, Geneva."
"Kimmy, thank God. I wasn't sure you'd pick up. I'm sorry. I know it's late." Her voice was shooting out at a hundred words per second. "Do you have a minute?"
I heard engines in the background and the sound of wind. She was driving, and likely high on cold brew.
"Sure." I closed the laptop and dragged the blanket tighter around me.
"Okay, so here's the situation," Geneva began. "My father had a stroke. He's in a hospital up in Ukiah. It's a mess."
"Oh God. I'm sorry to hear about that. Is he okay?" I'd never met the man but I liked him from her stories alone. He looked like Santa Claus in all of the pictures Geneva shared with me.
"Thanks, hon," she said. "And honestly, we don't know yet. Mom isterrified and my brother is useless in crisis. I need to leave tonight and I have that mixer in a few days. I remember you don't like socializing, but I really need you to go in my place."
My mind skidded. "No," I said, immediate and instinctive. "I can't. You know I don't do public events." This was the one point in my employment contract we had discussed at length when I came to Lark & Lark.
There was a pause. Perhaps, Geneva wasn't expecting this much resistance. "Kimmy, I wouldn't ask unless it was an emergency."
"I'm not—" The word choked up. "I'm not good at crowds."
"You're better than Terry," she shot back, and I could hear the frustration in her voice. "If I send Terry, he'll get wasted and pitch his dumb holographic tour idea to the potential investors. And that'll scare them off for good."
Anxiety washed over me. I stood up, letting the blanket drop. "I just— Geneva, I'm really not fit for this. We agreed I'd do work from home when you hired me."
"You are a great fit, hon. You've done this before. I don't know why you left Evernight Events, but anyone who worked there is golden in my book."
